


Medic Ships

by DeckofDragons



Series: TF2 Shipping Challenge (With Some Bonus SpyDad) [4]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Medic POV, Science, Shipping Challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-20
Packaged: 2020-01-07 07:44:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18406217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeckofDragons/pseuds/DeckofDragons
Summary: A one shot for each Medic ship.





	1. Demo - Terrible Choices

“Ugh, I’ve made terrible choices, haven’t I?” Demo complained.

“Yep.” Medic could do nothing but agree with that. Demo’s decision to punch a hole through a thick pane of glass had gone about as well as one would expect. He’d hit it hard enough to bruise his knuckles and there were lacerations on his hand and all up his forearm, several of which were deep enough to require stitches.

“Why’d you let me do that?” He complained some more, shifting enough that Medic had to grab him to make him hold still so he could continue his stitching.

“As I recall I _didn’t_ let you do that, I specifically told you _not_ to but you did anyway.” And now here they were in Medic’s lab with Medic patching him up again.

“It worked though.”

“No, not really.” The hole his fist had made in the window hadn’t been big. Heavy had ended up using Engie’s wrench to clear the rest of the reinforced glass, allowing him to give Scout a boost up through it so Scout could let them back into the base – they’d managed to all lock themselves out the day the door code changed and thus none of them knew it like a bunch of morons. They could’ve called Miss Pauling but that would’ve been embarrassing so they’d broken in instead.

“Eh.” Demo shrugged, reaching for his bottle with his other hand. He lifted it to his lips to take a drink before remembering once more that it was empty, putting it down with a groan.

Medic ignored him as he finished his stitching and pulled out a roll of bandages to wrap Demo’s hand and arm up. “There, done,” he said, wiping the blood coating his hands off with a towel – it was already stained red from a previous use, he’d need to replace it soon, he wasn’t _that_ unsanitary.

“Thanks.” Demo slid off the examination table. He didn’t start for the door though as Medic expected but instead stood there as if he’d never seen bandages before. _Or_ as if he was purposefully pretending to be distracted by them. “So, uh… there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you for uh… a little while now.” He still wasn’t looking at Medic as he spoke.

“What is it?”

“Well uh… um… Nah, never mind, I’ll ask you later.” _Now_ he started for the door.

Well-practiced in catching patients trying to escape his grasp, Medic deftly hooked an arm through Demo’s and pulled him back. “No, you won’t, what is it?”

Demo shifted uncomfortably, looking around the room. Didn’t he understand? His nervousness was only making Medic want to know more. So Medic put himself right up in Demo’s business, inches away from him. Which only made Demo more nervous but his back was to the examine table now, he couldn’t back up with any amount of ease.

“What is it?” Medic repeated, speaking low, almost a whisper

“Uh… Would you like to go out on a date with me sometime?” Demo blurted out.

“Oh uh… sure.” Medic stepped back to give Demo his breathing space back. That wasn’t what he’d been expecting but the surprise was a pleasant one.

Demo let out a sigh of relief. “Uh… Really? You sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s been a while since I’ve been on a date.” Since before he’d lost his medical license. “Going on one with you sounds pleasant.”

“Well uh… all right, a date then,” Demo said, smiling wide if a bit awkwardly.


	2. Engie - Powerful

Together, Engie and Medic could probably take over the world – or at least part of it – if they wanted to. They’re combined knowledge and experience made them the most powerful couple on planet Earth. They could do _anything_ if they worked together, even defy God himself, if such an entity did indeed exist somewhere in the cosmos.

But instead of doing anything like that, they were making small bread monsters with Engie’s teleporters for the sole purpose to have them battle each other, thus determining which kind of bread was the most powerful.  And Medic’s money was on the rye bread, it was the heaviest bread they had. And the loudest as it rattled and thumped in its container as if it held a grudge against the world itself.

“I still can’t believe Scout convinced us to do this,” Engie said with a chuckle as he sent the Italian loaf through the teleporters again.

Medic sat by the exit ready to contain it once the tumors inside it mutated to the point of transforming it into a living creature. It wasn’t there yet so he placed it on the conveyor belt, sending it back to Engie. “It’s for science,” he said. It gave them more opportunities to study this phenomenon. Was the difference between the different kind of bread monsters just atheistic or were other things such as how battle capable they were affected too? Knowing these things was important because _science_.

“Yes but…” Engie trailed off with another chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “We’re two of the smartest people on Earth and we’re combining our vast intellect to create a bread fighting ring.”

It did sound pretty ridiculous when phrased like that. ‘Ridiculous’ was basically part of their job description at this point though. And doing dumb stuff like this was one of the founding blocks of their relationship. “Well if we ever discover other foods that mutate into monsters when put through the teleporter enough times, we’re going to make a lot more than just a bread fighting ring.” They would too simply because they could. Just like they were doing this in large part just because they could. No one could stop them even if they’d wanted too.

Engie chuckled again. “Yeah, you’re right. I love this damn job and I love you for doing all this shit with me.”

Medic blew him a kiss and a wink. Before he could reply verbally though the Italian loaf came through once more and let out a screech as it came to life. Its first act as an alive but mindless thing was to attack Medic’s arm. It was well padded though, rendering the bite harmless and giving Medic easy leverage to get it into one of the small dog crates they had line up for just this purpose. They could worry about flirting later, for now they had a bread fighting ring to get up and going mostly for the sake of science but also just because they could.


	3. Sniper - Freedom

“Now that we have the freedom to do whatever we want, what are you going to do?” Sniper asked as he strode into Medic’s lab.

Medic was in the midst of packing up. The war was over, they’d won, and thus this job was over. He wasn’t ready for it even though he’d felt the end coming up for a while. Like Sniper said, they were now free to do whatever they wanted. Presumably they’d all be going their separate ways, how much they’d stay in contact was yet to be determined. Medic’s work on them, keeping them alive, healing them, and experimenting on them, was done. What could he possible do next? “I don’t know,” he admitted as he looked up at Sniper. He’d have to figure it out soon though. “What are you going to do?”

“Uh… I don’t know yet either. Probably get hired on somewhere else, maybe do some more freelance stuff for a while, there’s always a need for people with my skillset. I was wondering though if you don’t got any other plans if you’d maybe like to uh… join me?”

“Could I bring my birds?” There was no way Medic could leave his babies behind.

“Course, there’s probably room in my van for them. Not much but I’m sure it’d do until we settle down someplace bigger.”

“Then sure, I’ll join you.” Medic would’ve probably just driven off until he found something else to do anyway since he couldn’t return to Germany without ending up in a jailcell. It would be better with company.

 

Being on the road with just Sniper and the birds quickly turned out to be quite enjoyable. With it just being the two of them, Sniper had a tendency to open up a bit more. It was nice to get to know him better after working with him – and on him – for years.

The campervan had been a bit crowded at first with all of Medic’s lab equipment piled up in it as well as the birds and the two of them, but the acquisition of a large trailer to store all the lab equipment as well as other not immediately useful things fixed that problem. They stopped a few times a day to give the birds as well as themselves some exercise.

Sleeping under the stars was a quite a common thing as well. They had a tent to shield them from the rain or cold but rarely needed it. More often than not, they just slept under the stars.

It was one such night after they’d been on the road together a little over a month when they were getting a little tipsy that Sniper struck up a conversation. “So, uh… the reason I asked you to join me is uh… because I like you a lot, like a lot, a lot. You know what I mean?”

Medic couldn’t help but grin as he turned his head to look at Sniper lying next to him. It had been a _long_ time since someone had taken an interest in him like that in the other lawn chair. He was pleased. “Yes, I think I know what you mean.”

Sniper let out an audibly shaky sigh before taking a drink, it was probably the alcohol giving him courage to confess this. “So, you want to go on a date sometime or something?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” That sounded rather nice actually, Medic looked forward to it.


	4. Scout - Illness

Scout moaned pitifully as Medic took the thermometer out of his mouth to check his temperature. He was running a fever, a pretty bad one but nothing life threatening. He was moaning and complaining as if he were dying though.

“Stop being a baby,” Medic told him, placing the thermometer to the side. “It’s just a little flu, you’ll live.”

Scout let out another groan. “I hate it.”

Medic didn’t want to admit it but seeing Scout so miserable made him wish he could help more. But even as one of the world’s greatest doctors there was only so much he could do. “Come on, you need bedrest.” He gestured for Scout to hop off the examination table.

Scout slid off it with another groan. “I don’t want to rest, I want to do stuff.” But he let Medic guide him out to one of the recovery rooms where he’d been staying until everyone else got their flu shots so he wouldn’t be spreading his flu germs around.

“Just rest and drink lots of water and you’ll be better in no time,” Medic said in his best bedside manners voice, leaving out the ‘probably’ as Scout lay down. There was a chance it could get worse, possibly even to the point of it being potentially fatal. It wasn’t likely though; Scout was young and healthy. Telling him about that slim possibility would only upset him more.

“Uh… can you stay and keep me company please?” Scout asked as Medic started to turn away to leave. “I don’t want to be a bother but I don’t want to be alone _and_ miserable at the same time.”

Medic sighed, there was no way he could say ‘no’ to that. “Okay,” he said as he sat in the bedside chair – placed there for just this purpose. “Just until you fall asleep though, I got work to do.” Mostly rounding up the rest of the team and giving them flu shots hopefully before it was too late. The last thing he wanted or needed was for all of them to be bedbound by the flu.

“Thanks,” Scout with no small amount of relief. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

That brought a smile to Scout’s face. Good, that should make him feel better at least.


	5. Heavy - Snow Globe

Mail day was almost like a mini holiday for several members of the team but just another day or a downright drag for everyone else. Medic was in the latter category and he was _fine_ with that, totally fine. All his friends were his team mates and all his remaining family members could go fuck themselves for all he cared, he didn’t want any mail from them anyway.

Which is why when Spy – the unofficial mail delivery guy of the base – handed Heavy his stack of mail from his family back in Russia during one of the rare breaks Heavy managed to convince him to go on, Medic left shortly after. It’d be rude to intrude on him when he was looking at important stuff sent by his family. And Medic had work to get back to anyway. Which he set to with a vigor.

It was maybe only half an hour before he was interrupted by a knock on his lab door though. He sighed as he set aside his disassembled Medi-gun – it was a new prototype that had stopped functioning for seemingly no reason – to go answer the door, he’d been getting annoyed by it anyway.

“What do you need?” he asked by reflex as he opened the door. Most of the time when people visited him in his lab it was because they needed something from him, often something inane. But it was Heavy on the other side of the door.

“Doctor,” he said, waving one hand in greeting. He was holding what looked like a giftwrapped box in his other hand.

“What’s that?” Medic asked as he stepped back, allowing Heavy to enter – he was almost always welcome – closing and locking the door again behind him.

“Is late birthday gift from my sisters. I wrote them about you and mentioned what I’d got you for your birthday. They sent this for you.” He held it out towards Medic.

“Oh,” was all Medic could say as he accepted it. It was quite weighty and indeed addressed to him. “What is it?”

“I do not know; their letter did not say. Open it and find out.”

Medic went back to his lab table and sat down, Heavy joined him, sitting on the other side. Medic placed the gift down and carefully removed the wrapped paper, revealing the cardboard box with the ‘fragile’ logo on both sides with Russian lettering and firmly taped shut. He used a scalpel cut to through the tape. Inside, the gift was secured safely between two styrofoam pieces. Taking the ‘fragile’ warnings to heart, Medic was careful when he removed it and separated them.

It was a snow globe, one of the large ones. The scene inside was of a bird sanctuary with all different kinds of birds perched everywhere. It was… beautiful.

When he lowered it, he looked across the table to see Heavy smiling at him. “I love it but… why did they send this to me?” Medic had never even met them yet – that was the plan for next Christmas break but that was a still a long way away – why would they send him such a nice gift?

“You are my partner,” Heavy replied. “They consider you family now.”

“O-oh.” It had been _ages_ since his biological family had estranged him thus it was hard to imagine anyone considering him part of their family. It was… a nice feeling. “Please tell them I said ‘thank you’.”

“You can tell them yourself if you like. Bundle your letter in with mine.”

Medic did know enough Russian to at least be able to send a coherent thank you letter so… “Sure, we can do that.”


	6. Soldier - Running on Empty

The window in Medic’s lab was often covered by a curtain – the last thing he needed while working on an important experiment was to be distracted by the outdoors – as a result he was surprised by the light of early dawn upon stepping into the kitchen. He’d pulled another all-nighter. In hindsight, he should’ve guessed that to be the case, he was _far_ too tired for it to be anything else. This was his second one in a row, he’d intended to go to bed at midnight. … Too late now though.

With a grunt, he shambled on over to the coffee pot. It took him a while to remember where everything was and how it all went together, a testament to how _desperately_ he needed caffeine. He’d make it extra strong, as strong as possible lest he pass out in the middle of today’s battle.

 

Except it was a good couple hours off the midpoint of the battle when he passed out. One second his team was expressing concern for his less than optimal performance – his brain too tired to fully grasp the meaning of their words – the next he had the sensation of falling. Darkness consumed his mind before he hit the ground.

He was awoken by the sound a of a door opening. Paranoia born of being a mercenary for however long he’d had this job had him shooting up instantly to make sure it wasn’t an attacker. It was just Soldier though, peeking his head in.

“You’re awake,” he said, a large smile splaying across his face as he stepped in properly. He closed the door behind him.

“Yes.” Potential threat averted, Medic glanced around. They were in his room. His shoes and doctor’s coat had been removed. “What happened?” he asked, looking back at Soldier.

“You passed out. I thought you’d died. But you _didn’t_.” He gestured towards Medic with both hands as if to say ‘here’s the proof’. “Never _ever_ do that again.”

“You mean ‘pass out’? I don’t intend to.”

“Well, that too but I meant the staying up all night thing. Spy told me that’s probably what you did after he proved you weren’t dead, just unconscious. You are no longer allowed to do that.”

Medic groaned and rolled his eyes. “Sometimes I need to though because…”

“ _No_ ,” Soldier interrupted, literally putting his foot down. “I will not let you do that to yourself anymore, it’s _bad_.”

“It’s not any of your business.”

“No, it _is_ my business because I love you. I refuse to sit by and let you hurt yourself any longer.”

Medic flinched. Soldier just _had_ to pull that card, didn’t he? “Fine,” he gave in with a sigh. When Soldier was determined about something it took a _lot_ of work to get him to drop it, it wasn’t worth it in this case. ~~And Medic liked that Soldier cared enough about him to put his foot down on a matter like this. How long had it been since someone had cared about him like that?~~

“Good.” Soldier nodded before marching over to bend down and kiss Medic’s forehead.

“I love you too,” Medic mumbled with a sigh, crossing his arms. “Thanks for taking care of me or whatever.”

“I will go get you food and then afterward you will go back to resting. That is an order.”

“What are you going to do if I disobey? Make me do pushups?”

Soldier opened his mouth to respond but closed it again, lifting his hand to his chin in a thoughtful look. He thought for several long seconds before replying. “Uh… no. If you disobey, I will nag you until you do, just like you did with me when I got sick that one time. I will go get you food now so stay here.” He turned and marched out.

Medic sighed, shaking his head fondly. Looks like his days of staying up all night working were at an end. It was probably for the best. He’d tried to put a stop to them himself a few times in the past but had never been able to manage, he’d eventually just accepted them and embraced them. Now though, he had Soldier and Soldier undoubtedly wouldn’t let that happen again.


	7. Spy - Amnesia

Spy woke up after more than two weeks after getting shot in the head. It was a miracle that he’d survived, a testament to how good a doctor Medic was even without his medical license. His pride in himself was _almost_ enough to make him forget his worry. Head wounds were tricky things, there was a _very_ real possibility that even though Medic had saved his life Spy would never wake from his coma. But he _did_.

Medic returned to Spy’s recovery room – he’d been dragged away by the rest of the team to make him eat something – to see that Spy’s eyes were open. Almost not daring to hope, Medic closed the door and quickly made his way to stand by Spy’s bedside. “You’re awake,” he said, trying not to sound too excited. He had to be careful not to let their relationship affect how Medic treated him as a patient lest he make a mistake while treating him.

“Seems so,” Spy replied, understandably sounding a bit spacey. “Where I am?”

“One of the recovery rooms of course. Now I need to run some tests to see if there’s any permanent damage.” And _then_ Medic could tell him just how relieved he was that he’d woken up at last. “Let’s start with, how are you feeling?”

“Uh… lost and confused?”

Medic quickly gathered his clipboard to take notes. “What do you mean exactly?”

“I mean I don’t remember anything. How I got here or your or…” He grimaced, “…even my own name.”

Medic’s pen froze inches above the paper as some of the relief he’d felt came crashing down. “You… remember nothing?”

“That’s what I just said, yes.”

Medic took a deep breath to steady himself and not show any shock or upset, bedside manners weren’t typically his thing but he still applied them sometimes. And he’d known amnesia was a possibility. “You… don’t even remember me?” was what he said though.

“No, I don’t… sorry.” He looked truly remorseful for a second or two before his expression went back to blank. “That means we know each other though. Who am I?” Even with amnesia he still got straight to business when he wanted to know something.

“I don’t know your real name, you went by ‘Spy’ among us. I am Medic.”

“Those are… interesting nicknames.”

“Yes, they’re quite on the nose. That’s just how it is though.” Honestly why they’d chosen that as their nicknaming scheme was still a mystery. Who had even suggested it? Engie? Soldier maybe? … Didn’t matter at this point. “I guess I should examine you more thoroughly and then I can fill you in on more stuff.”

“Yes, do that please.”

After noting down Spy’s amnesia, Medic put the clipboard down and started doing tests. Amnesia was bad but not the end of the world, it was _certainly_ better than death or a permanent coma. There was no guarantee that it was even permanent so… Medic didn’t need to worry too much yet. ~~He was going to anyway though.~~ And on the bright side it meant he could study the effects of amnesia further and possibly find a way to cure it. Yeah, _that’s_ what he’d do, he’d find a way to fix it both because he was the world’s greatest doctor and because he loved Spy. Everything would be fine in the end… probably.


	8. Pyro - Sleeplessness/Insomnia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How short this one is proves the length of these isn't a testament to how much I love the ship. This is one of my fav ships and yet this is one of the shortest ones. It just short of happened that way.

“Pyro sweetie, I can’t sleep right now,” Medic said with a groan. He was tired but his attempt at sleep – under Pyro’s insistence – had failed so he might as well spend the time getting some work done instead of lying in bed feeling miserable.

“But you _need_ sleep,” Pyro complained, squeezing him a bit tighter. He’d come out of seemingly nowhere – his footsteps were quiet enough to almost rival Spy’s when he wasn’t wearing his suit – and had hugged Medic from behind as he sat at his desk trying to work. “It’s _important_.”

“I know.” Medic would just continue working but that was really hard when Pyro was clinging to him like this. The fact that he wasn’t wearing his suit made it worse, it meant he’d made his way through the halls to Medic’s lab without it. Yeah, it was the middle of the night so the chance of someone else seeing was low but it was still no doubt a big thing for him. “Just go back to bed, I’ll join you later.” If he could.

“I don’t like sleeping when you’re not there. But…” Pyro finally let go of him, allowing him to turn in his chair to face him. “Why can’t you sleep? I don’t understand.”

“I just can’t.” Some nights it was just like that.

Pyro sighed, exaggerating his sadness. It made Medic feel bad but… what could he do? He couldn’t help that he couldn’t sleep and he didn’t want to be lying in bed tossing and turning all night.

“Working won’t help though,” Pyro said with sudden resolve. “It’ll only make it worse. Why don’t we try doing what we do when I can’t sleep after a nightmare?”

Medic sighed, taking another look at what he’d been working on. It was important, he wanted to keep working on it but… “Fine,” he said as he stood up. Pyro was more important. “I’ll make the tea.”

Pyro clapped as he fell in besides Medic with a spring in his step. Spending time with him was far superior to doing work any day or night of the week anyway. And who knew, maybe it would help him fall asleep.


	9. Bonus: Cheavy - Gardening

Of all the places Medic had gone looking for Cheavy the _last_ place he’d expected to find him was the garden out back. Even _more_ unexpected was the fact that he was tending to the flowerbeds with so much care and attention, he didn’t notice Medic was out here now too.

Curious, Medic crossed his arms and watched. He’d always assumed that it was one of the others who tended the garden, who he hadn’t been sure but he’d never once considered that it might be Cheavy. The fact that it was him made him even more intriguing. It just went to show that even the gruffiest of people had their softer sides sometimes.

Cheavy hummed a soft tune to himself, his voice a deep baritone as he pruned and watered the flowers. Many minutes passed as he worked and continued to be oblivious to Medic’s presence. How long could that last?

Turns out quite a while as he finished up and then bent down to gather up his gardening tools to bring them to the little shed in the back. He came out a few seconds later and froze solid as he looked up from locking the door as he finally spotted Medic.

“H-how long have you been there?” he said, his rigid stance screaming of embarrassment.

“A while,” Medic replied, holding back a laugh. It wouldn’t go over well but seeing Cheavy flustered was endearing. “Your garden is lovely by the way, very beautiful.”

“You… really think so?”

“Yes, all the work you put into it really pays off.”

“I uh… thanks, whatever, it’s not important.” He huffed, not looking at Medic as he strode closer. “What do you need?”

Medic had gone looking for him because he needed something but… _what_? He couldn’t remember. Whatever, it didn’t really matter a whole lot anyway, like with many things, it had partially also served as an excuse to seek out Cheavy. It could wait. “Nothing, I just want to hang out for a bit if you’re free? Maybe we could go get coffee or something.”

“Uh…” Cheavy glanced around. “Sure, coffee sounds nice. I know of a nice place close if you want to…”

“Sure, let’s go.”


End file.
